


The lucky ones

by irisdouglasiana



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Season/Series 02, everything is wonderful and happy and good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 05:01:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6690727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irisdouglasiana/pseuds/irisdouglasiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seven relationship "firsts" for our intrepid duo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The lucky ones

**Author's Note:**

> I'm cheesy as hell, if you haven't noticed.

The pickings at Grauman’s Chinese Theater are rather slim, and Daniel’s starting to regret this choice for his first official date with Peggy. War drama, war drama, war drama, war comedy. They both agreed beforehand to no war films; it turns out Peggy can’t stand them either.

“What about this one?” Peggy says, pointing at a poster for a historical drama featuring a heavily made up woman in 18th century French dress. “It’s one of Howard’s. I’ve never seen any of his pictures before.”

“Uh.” Daniel’s familiar with some of Stark’s movies. They are, to put it delicately, not very good. But the options seem limited otherwise. “Sure, Peg. Let’s watch that one.”

The theater is mostly empty so they pick out prime seats. Daniel sets aside his crutch and wonders if he should put his arm around Peggy or not. _You’re not sixteen_ , he reminds himself as the picture starts. He puts his arm around her. She glances at him with a raised eyebrow and grins.

As Daniel suspected, the movie is not good. The leading actress is all but spilling out of her corset. In the first scene she bends down to pick a necklace off the floor, and the camera focuses lovingly on her bosom as she stands up. “Howard!” Peggy whispers in disgust.

It only gets worse from there. The dialogue is corny, the storyline nonsensical, and the romance unconvincing. The hero bears more than a passing resemblance to Howard Stark. When he proclaims his love for the heroine (whose dress is now clinging tightly to her body thanks to a convenient thunderstorm), Daniel’s surprised to notice tears running down Peggy’s face. She leans over and buries her face in her hands, and he realizes she’s shaking with laughter. Then her laughter turns into hiccups, and Daniel starts cracking up too.

Peggy sits up and suddenly pulls him in for a lengthy kiss. “Get a room!” somebody shouts from a few rows behind them.

“Ready to go?” Daniel asks her.

“I thought you’d never ask. I was afraid you actually liked it.”

“I do have _some_ taste, Peggy,” he protests as they gather their things and leave the building. It’s dark now, and the outside of the theater is beautifully illuminated.

“I feel like I owe you a drink for choosing that movie,” Peggy says.           

Daniel smiles. “Sounds fair to me.”

* * *

Peggy loves dancing, and Daniel’s not one to deprive her. He’ll usually watch her spin around the floor until she coaxes him out for a slow dance or two. He’s much less self-conscious than he used to be about this sort of thing, but he does worry about stepping on her toes.

They’re midway through one such dance on their fourth date when Daniel spots a familiar face. He tries to turn away, but it’s too late: he and Rose have already made eye contact. “Rose is here,” he tells Peggy.

“Oh!” she exclaims, her face reddening. They haven’t told anybody yet that they’re dating. “I suppose we should say hello.”

Rose is with a man they don’t know. He’s very tall, blond, and tanned, and his teeth are perfectly white and straight. “Tom, these are my friends, Peggy and Daniel.” She gives them a little smirk that speaks volumes, foists Tom off on Peggy for the next dance (“I’ve got two left feet”), and takes a seat next to Daniel while she sips her drink.

“Two left feet?” he teases, not believing her for a minute. “You can’t possibly be a worse dancer than the guy with one leg.”

Rose is not deterred. “So…you and Peggy, hmm?”

He watches Peggy whirling around the dance floor. She’s substantially better than Rose’s date, who appears to be slightly behind the beat, but they still seem to be having a good time. “Ah…we hadn’t told anybody yet.” He attempts to change the subject. “Tom?”

Rose shrugs. “I met him out surfing. Sort of dull, but very handsome, don’t you think? I’ll keep him around for another date or two. But let’s get back to you and Peggy.”

Daniel sighs. “Fine. It’s been a little over a month now. But we’re trying not to make a big deal out of it, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t spread the word around.”

She stares at him. “You don’t seriously think this is some sort of secret, right?”

“Um,” he says, taken aback.

She pats him on the arm. “Daniel, you and Peggy were the last to know. I promise that everybody knew before the two of you did. You know they were taking bets at the office when you would finally kiss?”

“You can’t be serious.”

“We weren’t taking bets on _if_ you and Peggy would get together, it was _when_. Took longer than I thought. You realize I lost good money on you? I think you should buy me a drink for that. Or several drinks.”

He massages his temples. “Wait, how did you know when we kissed?”

“Maybe try closing the blinds in your office next time,” she suggests.

Daniel can’t even dignify that with a response. Peggy comes back to the table, flushed and breathing heavily, and Rose steps out onto the dance floor with Tom.

“What were you talking about?” Peggy asks.

“Apparently everybody at the SSR was taking bets on when we would kiss.”

She blushes bright red and sputters a little, but sits down next to him and watches Rose lead Tom around the dance floor. Just as Daniel suspected, Rose is an excellent dancer.

* * *

Peggy keeps insisting she’s fine, even though she’s been sniffling and coughing all week.

“Go home, Peg,” Daniel tells her. “You’re going to get everyone sick.”

As it happens, Daniel is the only one who gets sick, and it’s his turn to suffer through the following week. They’re on the verge of a major breakthrough on a case and he can’t possibly take the time off. He feels miserable but he’s functioning just fine until he gets caught in a freak rainstorm while checking out a crime scene, and that’s when things take a turn for the worse. The cough settles deep into his lungs and refuses to leave.

A couple days later, he stands up a little too quickly in his office and actually blacks out for a minute. When he wakes up, he’s surrounded by all his agents, who look very concerned. Peggy shoos them away and helps him back to his chair. “You’re burning up. You should have stayed home.”

He’s very tired. “You’re a hypocrite, Carter.”

Peggy ends up taking him to the hospital, and he’s too exhausted to even protest. It turns out he has pneumonia. They keep him there for a couple days before sending him home. It’s the longest time he’s spent in a hospital since he lost his leg, and even in his muddled state he can’t wait to get out of there.

Peggy comes over every day to bring him food and take care of small chores. There’s not much for him to do except lie in bed, listen to the radio, and think. Just a few years ago, before Bastogne, he could have bounced back from this quickly. Now he’s paying the price for not listening to his body.

When he starts to feel slightly better, his mind goes back to all the work he’s missing. Peggy refuses to bring him the case files to look over. “‘Sometimes you have to put your faith in others to get the job done,’” she says. “You were the one who told me that, remember?”

“You were the one who kept coming to work even though you were sick.”

She nods. “I’m sorry, Daniel. I feel like this is all my fault.”

He coughs. “It’s not. I should have known better too. I know I can’t push myself this hard anymore. Sometimes it’s just hard to accept.”

She kisses his forehead and touches his arm gently. “I love you, Daniel. Take care of yourself.”

“I love you too.” The words slip out of him so easily, so naturally. For a moment, he forgets the weight on his chest, the fluid in his lungs, the exhaustion. _Peggy loves him._

* * *

When Daniel’s almost fully recovered, he invites Peggy over for dinner to thank her for taking care of him while he was sick. He’s not much of a cook, but he knows how to grill a steak and can put together something approximating a salad, so that’s what he makes. He buys a bottle of decent wine and figures if they both drink enough, it won’t matter if the food is good or bad.

Peggy comes over straight from work with her hair mussed up and streaks of dust on her shirt (“Bit of a rough afternoon at the office”), and yet she still manages to look flawless. She collapses in the dining room chair and wolfs down dinner before starting in on the wine.

After drinking their way through two-thirds of the bottle, they somehow end up in his bedroom. He’s left the closet wide open. Peggy goes over to take a look and starts laughing. “Really, how many Hawaiian shirts does one man need? Did you leave closets full of ties and sweater vests back in New York?”

He’s very offended. “Oh, tease me about my wardrobe, huh? How many dresses do you own?”

Peggy tosses her hair back and puts her hands on her hips. “Every girl needs a few disguises. Besides, I have to keep up appearances.”

“Well, maybe I do, too.”

“Oh, I like this one.” She grabs one of his shirts off the hangar and starts trying it on.

“Okay, Peggy, that’s enough,” he says, attempting to take it back from her. She dodges him easily.

“Fine,” he sighs. He leans his crutch against the wall and takes a step closer. “You missed a button.”

When she looks down, he takes her by the waist—and starts tickling her. She doubles over laughing and shoves him away. He stumbles but maintains his balance.

“Ticklish, Peg?”

“Don’t you dare,” she warns him, but he goes in for the kill anyway. He tries to grab her waist and suddenly he’s pinned flat on his back on the bed, her face only inches away from his. For a moment, they just stare at each other. She leans down and kisses him, and he kisses her right back. He’ll never get over how beautiful she is.

Peggy sits up and unbuttons Daniel’s shirt, and then pulls her own shirt over her head. This time, she doesn’t ask him to turn around.

* * *

Daniel wakes up early, as usual, and it takes him a moment to register that Peggy is asleep beside him. He smooths her hair back gently. She stirs and opens her eyes, and he tells her to go back to sleep. Without bothering to put on his prosthetic leg or change his clothes, he grabs his crutches and heads to the kitchen to make breakfast.

He’s already got the coffee ready and is working on the eggs when Peggy comes in, wearing his bathrobe and yawning. “Anything I can do to help?”

“Set the table and have some coffee?” he suggests. “I’ll take care of the rest of it. You sleep well?”

“Mm-hmm,” Peggy says as she puts out the silverware. “Your bed is very comfortable.”

He senses she’s trying hard not to stare as he maneuvers around the kitchen on one leg, holding onto the counter and cabinets to keep his balance. In their rush to get each other’s clothes off last night, they hadn’t really talked about _it_. It was dark and they had both been tipsy. Now, in the morning light, he feels somewhat more exposed.

“So, Peggy,” he begins. “Did I ever tell you about the encounter I had with the very mean nurse back when I was recovering at the hospital?”

She shakes her head. “No. Go on.”

“Okay. In my defense, I’d just had several extremely bad weeks—well, months at that point, I guess—and I was under the influence of some heavy duty pain medication. Anyway, Nurse Patterson was assigned to do the rounds in that part of the hospital; take my temperature, check the bandages, make sure I was still breathing, that sort of thing. But she was always chewing on gum or eating candy. So one time I very politely asked her if I could have some gum, and she said no. And she wasn’t nice about it, either.”

“The nerve of some people,” Peggy murmurs.

He continues the story. “The next day, I asked the guy in the bed next to me to distract her and get her to leave the room for a minute. When she left, I got up—which I definitely wasn’t supposed to be doing on my own—and started going through her bag. She came back before I found any gum and caught me red-handed. In other words, I didn’t have a leg to stand on.” Peggy puts her head between her hands and groans, and he grins at her. “Also, the eggs are ready.”

Daniel takes a seat next to her. “Do you remember telling me that I was one of the lucky ones?” he asks as he sips his coffee. “It was a long time ago.”

“Mm-hmm,” she answers with a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

“At the time, I thought you were just telling me I was lucky to be alive. But that’s not what you meant, right?”

Peggy gazes at him thoughtfully. She puts down her fork and takes his hand. “Yes and no, I suppose. I know a lot of people who survived the war with their bodies intact, but never truly came home. I think they lost themselves somewhere along the way.”

Daniel nods. He knows people like that too.

She runs her fingers along his hand. “Daniel, I didn’t know you before the war, but I consider myself very lucky to know the person you are now.”

_Me too._ He takes her face in his hands and kisses her gently, melting into her brown eyes.

It is a wonderful thing just to exist, but even more wonderful to have one another.

* * *

It’s snowing lightly in New York, and the plane skids a little on the ice as it lands. Despite bundling up, Daniel shivers as they open the door and the freezing wind blows inside. He doesn’t remember winter being so cold. Peggy squeezes his hand and smiles, but she’s shivering too.

Daniel forgets the cold once he steps out of the plane and sees his father standing out on the runway, holding a pile of extra coats and scarves. He feels his eyes welling up and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. He started to feel it somewhat as they were flying over the city, but now it’s finally hit him: at last, he’s home. God, has it really been so long?

Down on the runway, he pulls his father into a long embrace. “I missed you, Pop.”

His father is beaming. “Welcome home, Daniel.”

Peggy’s hanging back a little ways. Daniel nudges her forward. “Peggy Carter, this is my father, Joaquim Sousa.”

They shake hands shyly. “My pleasure, Mr. Sousa,” Peggy says.

It’s as though he never left. Daniel’s father takes them back to their old apartment over the deli and insists that Peggy take his bed while he sleeps on the couch. Peggy will hear nothing of it and says she’ll take the couch, and finally Daniel steps in and tells Peggy to take his old bed and he’ll sleep in the living room. It turns out the couch is not nearly as comfortable as he remembers. He wakes up the next morning with the stump of his right leg aching terribly from the change in the weather. Still, he lies there for a while and listens to the traffic down on the street, feeling very content. It’s good to be home.

After some initial reticence, Peggy and Daniel’s father hit it off. They take turns embarrassing him, mostly. His father talks more than he has in years, happy to share old photographs and trinkets. He obviously adores her. At first, Daniel’s worried that Peggy will be bored, but she seems genuinely interested in everything his father has to say.

On Christmas Eve, after he’s finished helping his father do some cleaning around the deli, Daniel heads back upstairs and finds Peggy sitting on his bed. She’s looking through some of the old photographs again. “You look exactly like your mother,” she says, handing him a picture.

It’s one of his favorites. Daniel is maybe eight or nine years old in the picture, standing with his parents at the base of the Statue of Liberty. Everyone is smiling.

“All my relatives tell me the same thing,” he says. “And that I have her temper, too.”

Peggy raises an eyebrow. “Her temper?”

He laughs. “She was this tiny lady, maybe five feet tall in heels. Nobody could boss her around. When I was seven, I remember her chasing a would-be robber out of the store with a shotgun and tackling him right in the middle of the street.”

She looks at the picture again. “I’m sure she would be very proud of you, Daniel. I’m sorry I never got the chance to meet her.”

“Oh, Peg. She would’ve loved you.”

It’s not easy for Daniel to be open with people, and he knows Peggy is the same way. But that day, they talk and share stories long after the sun has gone down, the rest of the world forgotten.

* * *

Peggy’s always finding ways to surprise him. Or give him a heart attack; sometimes he can’t tell the difference.

They’re in hot pursuit of a man who’s stolen yet another of Howard Stark’s inventions, with Peggy hanging on to the trunk of the suspect’s car and Daniel trailing them in the police car. As they pass over the Colorado Street bridge, the suspect suddenly swerves and the car plunges over the side into the water below. Daniel screeches to a stop just in time.

“Peggy!” He stumbles out of the car and hurries over to the edge, heart thumping in his chest. She’s clinging to the concrete railing for dear life.

“I’ve got you, Peggy,” he says, grabbing her arms. No matter what, he can’t watch her fall again. With the help of another agent, they pull her back up onto the bridge. She collapses on the pavement, shaking.

Daniel’s shaking a little, too. “You all right?” he asks.

She nods and sits up slowly. “Let’s get married.”

He stares at her. “What?”

“Let’s get married,” she repeats.

“Right now?” he stammers.

Peggy stands up. “Is that a yes?”

“Oh! Yes—yes, of course!” He pulls her close and kisses her. She’s crying and so is he.

Later that day, after they’re back at the SSR and have had some time to debrief, Peggy comes into his office and closes the door. “Daniel, about what I said earlier—I’d been thinking about it for a while, but I don’t know why I decided to ask you in that moment and I know I took you by surprise, so if you want to change your mind—”

“Peggy,” he interrupts, standing up and taking her hands. “Did you mean it?”

“Yes,” she says.

“Then ask me now.”

She takes a deep breath. “Daniel, will you marry me?”

“Yes, with all my heart. Peggy, will you marry me?”

“Yes, I will.” Her smile could light up the entire room.

The rest of the day is a blur. Later, there will be work to catch up on, cases to solve, a wedding to plan, and a whole lifetime to share in joy and sorrow. For now, it’s just the two of them, and that’s more than enough.


End file.
